


A Lifetime of Possibilities

by Minxie, vlredreign



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Drabble Battle, Glam 100, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minxie/pseuds/Minxie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlredreign/pseuds/vlredreign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten minutes opens the door to a lifetime of possibilites.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lifetime of Possibilities

**Author's Note:**

> [Glam 100](http://glam-100.livejournal.com/) had an open week and what started off as a single drabble soon became a ping-pong of drabbles in the same arc between myself and Red. I started the battle with _Makin' Music_ and we rotated back and forth until the end.
> 
> Original posts, along with the prompts used for each drabble, are available at [Glam 100](http://glam-100.livejournal.com/).
> 
> Hope you all have as much fun reading these as we did writing them.

**Makin' Music**

Rumpled and reeking of day-old beer and cigarettes, Tommy walks into rehearsal ten minutes late. Brian's dogging his steps.

"You're late," Adam says, giving a pointed look at the bruise on Tommy's neck. "And apparently having a good time doing it."

A light tinge of pink steals over Tommy's face. "Shut up, fucker. I was with Brian, time got away from us."

Adam arches an eyebrow. "Oh. Do tell, little boy."

"Not like that, smart ass," Tommy snaps, eyes cutting a fast glance at Brian. "We were just makin' some music."

Smirking, Adam asks, "Is that anything like a date?"

*

**A Denial**

The look Tommy gives Adam would be scary, if it were anyone else.

“No, fucker, we were making music. As in instruments and shit.”

Adam laughs. “I have instruments. Handcuffs, scarves…”

“Omigod, shuddup!”

“Oh, look, he’s blushing! Brian, what did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything. Leave the boy alone.”

“You did something. Look at him, all chewed up.”

“I didn’t chew on him, I…” Brian’s eyes widen as he realizes what he let slip. “Fuck you, Adam.”

“I would, but I think it would piss Tommy off.”

Tommy looks back and forth, caught between amusement and mortification.

*

**Offer on the Table**

The mortification quickly gives way to the possibility. Licking his lips, Tommy rolls his shoulders in an easy shrug. "Guess that depends."

Adam's eyes widen in surprise and then, much to Tommy's amusement, darken with lust.

"Would it be a one time hit, or…" Tommy purposely ignores Brian's fast intake of breath. "Or would you be sticking around for more. 'Cause Brian and I… we've talked it about it, about you."

"Tommy," Adam says – _whines, whimpers_. "Don't play with me."

Brian steps in close behind Tommy, one hand sliding around his waist. "He's not playin', we have talked about it."

*

**Bedtime Stories**

“I told Brian about us.”

A night of fucking, drinking and more fucking had loosened Tommy’s tongue a bit, and he told Brian about Amsterdam.

Of course the whole world knew he’d popped wood after Adam ate his face onstage. What they didn’t know was what happened after.

A bit more weed, and they’d fallen through the hotel room door, kissing, biting and throwing clothes everywhere. Adam picking Tommy up and Tommy’s legs wrapping around Adam’s waist. Tommy on the bed, pupils blown by good pot and better sex. And a promise. 

No one outside the band would ever know.

*

**Time for Decisions**

"I can't believe..." Adam shakes his head. "That was –"

"Special, important, eye-opening," Tommy interrupts. "The only difference between then and now is that Brian isn't walking away."

"Private," Adam whispers. "It was private, between us."

Tommy looks at Brian and Adam suddenly feels lost. He's being shut out of the conversation at very crucial moment. 

Then Tommy shrugs, his face a mash-up of sadness and hope. "And, if you take us up on it, you can't walk either. No hit and run, no worrying about the fans or the press. You've gotta want it as much as we do."

*

**Then and Now**

Want it. Oh yes, Adam wants this, wants _them_. Wants what could be.

He thinks about that long ago night. Everything they’d done up to that point had led to it. To him laying Tommy out on that stage and fucking _claiming_ him in front of God, his mother and everyone else.

And later, having what he thought he’d wanted for so long, splayed out and waiting for him. He took and took and fucking _took_.

And then he ran, ran for another pretty blond with tattoos and killer eyes. 

That was then. 

And this is now.

“Yeah. Okay, yes.”

*

**A Forever Kind of Fantastic**

"You're sure?" Brian has to ask. He knows the pain that Adam has caused in the past, inadvertently or not. He won't let that happen to Tommy again. No matter how much the both of them want Adam in their bed, in their life as more than boss and friend. 

Adam nods, his voice coming out clearer – _stronger_ – than a moment before. "Yes. I want this, with the _both_ of you." 

Some of the tension eases in Brian. Holding out a hand, he waits until Adam grips it and says, "Call off rehearsal, then. We've got better things to do." 

*

They stumble through the door of Brian's apartment high on the anticipation swirling around them. With a fast squeeze to Tommy's neck, Brian asks, "Happy?"

"And scared," Tommy replies.

"Don't be," Adam says. "Not of this, of me. I wouldn't have come…" He stops and shakes his head. "It's going to work out."

It has to, Brian thinks. If it doesn't, after they've brought it this far, it's going to break everything else apart.

And it will crush Tommy.

"He's right, babe," Brian says, hoping to fuck he isn't lying his black ass off. "We all want it too much."

*

Brian isn't sure how it happens, how they all strip down and tumble into his bed, landing in a massive heap of arms and legs, cocks and ass, with him in the middle. But he isn't complaining, and he damn sure isn't willing to trade places.

Not when Tommy's hand wraps around his cock, callus-rough fingers dragging hard and dry along the length, only to be followed by Adam's larger – _smoother_ – hand, slick with spit.

Tommy's grip is tighter, just the way Brian likes it, and Adam's more tentative, the fleeting touch infused with the wonder of a new lover.

*

If he's going to last at all, Brian needs a counterpoint, something to focus on. Something besides the press of a thumb below the head of his dick and the rut of a cock against his hip – _definitely Tommy's, so familiar_ – and the weight of another against his thigh – _Adam's, fuck yes and finally_.

"Kiss him," Brian says. "Give me a show."

Adam and Tommy come together in a clash.

And it's so goddamn hot Brian wonders why the fuck he thought it could do anything but make him beg to fuck or be fucked or just goddamn well come.

*

A hand slips down and cups his balls – _Adam's, Brian thinks_ – and Tommy whines – _all high-pitched and needy_ – and Brian is lost.

Static noise fills his ears and his vision greys. He's never come so goddamn hard from a hand job in his entire fucking life.

Before he can reach down and grab a handful of cock – _Tommy's or Adam's, he doesn't care_ – moist heat coats his hip, and Adam thrusts frantically against his thigh.

Then they're a hot mess of sweat and come, and they're laughing and kissing, and it's better than good.

It's a forever kind of fantastic.

_fini_


End file.
